Weekend Reprieve, of Sorts

I’ve turned my mute button off. I realized very quickly that life doesn’t stop for days of despondency. Children don’t get bathed and fed and loved and clothed (well, matching) when mama turns inward and is oblivious to all but her own suffering.

So, I took a deep breath and returned to the land of the emotionally living. I still cry at every word of sympathy, every caring look, every whispered breath of love. Every hymn and praise song leaves me dripping wet and snotty and a wreck. I still feel bouts of incredible anger and injustice. It’s all still churning and toiling and unsettled inside, but I must go on. I have always been duty bound and responsible. I don’t get to quit. I have decided to begin counseling. My first session is tomorrow morning because I refuse to stay this way when God has gifted others who can help. I thought God and I would get through this together...but it looks like it's time for me to seek wise counsel.

There was a blessed reprieve, of sorts. My good friend from college invited me, last minute, to her church’s women’s retreat, all expenses paid AND a room alone and I shall give props to the generosity and thoughtfulness of the ladies’ ministry at Hillcrest Baptist Church, which is like my ‘other’ church family, for allowing me to become a part of their special weekend. I felt the Lord begin to move in my heart, mostly through the worship music and the time alone. If you know the song “Blessed Be Your Name” you’ll know that it’s a powerful song even in joyful times. It was especially poignant to me this weekend. I sang choked up with the tears freely falling because it spoke truth that I could receive into my very marrow. “On the road marked with suffering, though there’s pain in the offering, blessed be your name.” Every time I hear this song, I think that King David and his psalms could have had a little competition because it, too, speaks directly to the heart, to the trials and issues, to the loss as God “give(s) and take(s) away,” BUT “my heart will choose to say, Lord, blessed be your name.” I will choose to bless God in spite of these awful feelings that I can’t seem to shake.

And then, I was given my own room. What a treat. It’s the first night I’ve slept alone, by myself, no husband, no children, no nurses, no family, no strangers, no nobody but me since Jeff and I were married almost 5 years ago next month. We stayed at the seminary where I had graduated (SWBTS in Fort Worth) in their conference center, and though I’ve peeked in the rooms before, I’d never stayed overnight. This was the purest form of luxury my little heart could have desired. I just wish I could have stayed a few more days. The seminary does things right. My room was perfect. I soaked in the tub until the water lost its heat, sa-shayed in my complimentary robe, and snuggled deep into that big bed all by myself and continued in my pursuit in the book of Job.

Though I’m gregarious and a bit of a talker and I dearly love people, I am an introvert, in that in order to renew and replenish, I must be alone. It is nearly impossible with the life I lead. My husband, though people “think” he’s quiet, is the exact opposite of me, and our precious preschoolers don’t know what alone means…well, I take that back. Alone, to them, means “private time” on the potty. Even then, they get immense joy out of becoming a parade of visitors to whomever has left a crack in the door (our bathrooms don’t lock).

Several funny things did occur at the conference, though I will limit what I share to what I did to myself so stupidly.

Before the first session began, I thought I should run back up to my room and brush my teeth. I quickly grabbed tube and brush, and as I began my routine, I discovered immediately that my toothpaste tasted strange. Wondering what kind of toothpaste I'd bought but still brushing, I looked down at the toothpaste tube, and to my horror realized I had picked up the DIAPER CREAM tube instead. I spit and spat and wiped out my greasy mouth with a washcloth, and even used nearly the whole bottle of complimentary mouthwash to rinse the taste away. I couldn’t get the paste out of my toothbrush and I was distraught. It took me forever to get that slime out of my mouth and I was most disgusted with myself. It's bad enough that my poor rear end has to smell like that, but my mouth, too??!!?? Come on.

Thankfully, we’d been given a goodie bag that had a brand new toothbrush and toothpaste in it….the best gift EVER!!!